


Keep the Evenings Long

by JerichoJaspersJeromeJr



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Background OT4, But Not Menstruation Kink, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Menstruation, Trans Prompto, hurt comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 07:07:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10508805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JerichoJaspersJeromeJr/pseuds/JerichoJaspersJeromeJr
Summary: Having your home reduced to rubble and being hunted by an entire army can make it a little awkward to get a prescription filled. Two months after Prompto runs out of hormones his period comes raging back to punch him in the stomach and kick him in the head.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, it's another [fic written for the kinkmeme](http://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/3016.html?thread=2400200).

“ . . . and then we take down Kenny Crow. Does that sound agreeable, Prompto?”

Prompto grits out a smile he hopes looks halfway normal, “Uh, yeah, sure! Great! Let’s go!”

He’s not sure what the question was but screw it, right now he’s not even sure who asked it.

His guts are cramping so hard it feels like he’s going to fold in two and the light glancing off the chrome dials is a stabbing knife through his temples. It’s taking almost all he has to stay sitting upright and any effort he’s got left to spare he’s spending on praying that he doesn’t end up bleeding through his pants.

It’s gotta be some kind of act of treason, bleeding onto the Regalia.

Even if it isn’t, Prompto kinda thinks Cid would kill him for it anyways.

Prompto hasn’t had a menstrual period in, fuck, he can’t even remember - it’s been a couple years now, at least. This wouldn’t even be happening except when Prompto had been packing for their little bachelor-party-slash-road-trip he had only brought enough T for five weeks and even that was only just in case they got held up somewhere.

They’ve been on the run from the Empire for three months now.

Logically Prompto knows there’s got to be somewhere in the outer provinces he can get a new prescription. It’s just at first they had no money and then they had a thousand other, way more important things to deal with than Prompto and his bullshit, so he sort of let it slide and hoped that maybe it'd just take a long time before anything happened.

He bites back a whimper as his stomach spasms.

“. . . Garulessa show champions?“ Ignis asks.

Prompto blinks at him, “Er, totally?”

“Yeah, let’s go with Plan B, Specs,” Noctis mutters from the back.

Prompto doesn’t bother asking. He sorta thought they were hunting couerls today, not garulessas, but the pounding pain between his eyes is making it hard to think clearly so, fuck it, maybe he’s just remembering wrong.

He tries not to be too obvious about it as he wraps his arms tight around himself. He closes his eyes and tries to focus on breathing, just breathing, and on ignoring how his stomach’s trying to gouge its way out of him with a rusty knife.

When the car finally stops Prompto cracks an eye open, then jerks up and takes a good look around, completely confused, “Wait, since when were we heading to Lestralum?”

“Come on,” Gladio says, pulling Prompto’s door open and hauling him out of the car, “You’ve been out of it all day, we’re taking you to a doctor.”

“Oh,” Prompto whispers, going bright red. He’s suddenly sure he’s never been this embarrassed before in his _life_ , “It’s . . . it’s nothing! It’s just, I . . . I ran out of testosterone a week . . . okay, a few weeks ago and I . . . “

Prompto trails off and clears his throat and tries again, “I just got my period, that’s all? So I’ve got a headache right now but it’s nothing, I’ll be fine,” he tries to laugh it off but it sounds weak and pathetic in his ears.

They all stare at each other for a moment in the terrible, awkward silence that follows.

Ignis is the first to recover, adjusting his glasses primly, “Prompto, less than an hour you agreed to help us go into business against Crow’s Nest Diners by kidnapping pedigree Garulessa for their meat.”

“I . . . wait, what?” Prompto stares at him, “That’s what you guys were talking about?”

“You still remember your prescription, Prom?” Noctis asks as he pulls out his phone and starts texting someone.

“Um,” Prompto says, trying to keep up with what’s happening. The jig is up, so he lets his head fall into his hands and massages his temples, “Give me a sec . . . “

“If he doesn’t, I do,” Ignis says.

“I’m not sure if that’s really sweet or really creepy,” Prompto says before he can stop himself.

Gladio laughs, “Both. Definitely both.”

“Fuuuuck,” Prompto hisses.

“Noctis and I will get supplies,” Ignis says, cool and practical and pointedly ignoring them, “Gladio, you and Prompto go get us checked in at the Leville.”

“Got it,” Gladio says.

Prompto decides he's too miserable to cling to dignity right now so he doesn't fight it when Gladio tugs him close. He just closes his eyes and lets himself be pushed and pulled along through the city.

Gladio gets them to the hotel at some point and the second they step through the door to their room Prompto heads for the bathroom like a missile. Half-an-hour whimpering on the toilet followed by a cold shower in the dark is not exactly a fun time but he’s feeling almost human when he steps out again.

To his surprise the bedroom is also dim, most of the shutters tilted against the bright sunshine outside. It takes him a second to spot Gladio sitting by door to the balcony, reading by a sliver of light.

“How are you feeling?” Gladio asks, putting his book down.

“Better.” Prompto says, “Definitely a lot better.”

“Here,” Gladio says, getting up to beckon Prompto over to some white plastic bags sitting on one of the beds, “We got you basic rations.”

Prompto makes his way over and rifles through the bags curiously. When he sees what’s inside he almost cries with relief; chocolate and a big bottle of aspirin and a box of pads, the cheap own-brand kind with neutral white wrappers and no frilly extras.

“Fuck, you guys are the best,” Prompto whispers tearfully, hugging the pads to his chest.

“Wait, before you retreat back into your bathroom kingdom,” Gladio says, picking up another bag, hidden under the bed, “I know those pads are kinda thick and uncomfortable. I mean, well, I know my sister says that but . . . “

Gladio trails off and Prompto stares at him blankly because this is _Gladiolus Amicitia_ , the guy who always boldly muscles his way through any issue even when he probably shouldn’t.

Gladio coughs and tries again, “Here, Iris says this is the good shit. Gel-based, super-thin, they can soak up a lake and you won’t even feel like you’re wearing them.”

He pulls out another box of pads from the bag. This one’s glossy and extremely pink, roses all over the packaging and the name “Leviathan's Joy” written across the front in fancy golden cursive.

“So hey, I know they’re pink and they’ve got all these flowers and shit on them but maybe they'll be more comfortable and . . . “ Gladio shrugs and rubs at the back of his head, “Look, I'm not going to get offended or anything if it makes you feel better using the other brand instead, I just . . . just take it from a guy named after a lily, flowers can be manly as fuck.”

Prompto laughs, despite himself. After a moment he reaches out to take the pink box from Gladio, “Yeah, well, you think I’m going to disagree with you, big guy? No man wants to get his ass kicked by a flower.”

Gladio grins at him hesitantly, “Yeah. _Yeah_ , don’t mess with us flowery types.”

Prompto tries to grin back but his uterus picks that moment to remind him that it still hates him and he ends up doubling over instead, Gladio hovering over him worriedly.

Prompto waves him off, “Shoo! Shoo! Let me get into the bathroom before I bleed onto the sheets.”

Gladio relents and helps him carry his haul.

By the time Prompto emerges again, a few minutes later, Gladio’s used the hotel-room kettle to make him tea. It’s some sort of pungent herbal stuff that makes Prompto wrinkle his nose but has his clenching guts settling down by the third sip.

“So, where are the guys?” Prompto asks, curling himself up with the mug in an armchair.

“Noct’s called in a few favors and gone with Holly to get your prescription refilled. It’s gonna be under the table but Holly says the doctor’s trustworthy,” Gladio says, “Ignis is getting us take-out.”

Prompto tries not to wince, “I’m . . . I think I’m going to skip dinner tonight but . . . seriously, I really appreciate this. All of this. Really, _Thank You_.” 

“You’re going to have to try eating if you want to take these,” Gladio chuckles, pulling another bottle from the bag.

Prompto squints at the bottle, “Aspirin? Why'd you guys get me two bottles?”

“The other’s just normal people aspirin. This,” Gladio says, rattling the bottle gently, “is aspirin blessed by the King of the Stone himself.”

“You got Noct to do his potion mojo on aspirin?” Prompto asks. He tries to remember why this might be a bad idea but his head's starting to pound again.

Instead, he remembers their first week out, how he got gored by a sabertusk, a great sucking wound to the gut that should have killed him. They had been hours from any help and Prompto should have died there in the dust but Noctis had just rolled an energy-drink between his hands and then forced Prompto to drink it.

Prompto licks his lips. He still remembers the taste of it, some sort of awful chemical fake fruit flavour, but he had been up and walking instantly, the wound knitting together without even a scar.

“. . . Is it safe to take?” he asks.

Gladio snorts, “It should be okay, Ignis thinks.”

“Oh! Well, I guess if Iggy says that . . .”

“If you take only half a pill,” Gladio continues, “on a full stomach.”

Two hours later, Prompto confirms that Noctis’ magical aspirin is perfectly safe, absolutely wonderful and the best thing that ever happened in the history of Eos. Pain and headaches and cramps have all been outlawed and the world is soft and sparkling, with a shimmering green haze in the air that’s the prettiest thing that Prompto’s ever seen.

He tells this to Noctis as they nestle against the soft, fluffy pillows on their shoved-together beds. Noctis just mutters something sleepily and rolls over.

Ignis rubs a gentle hand over Prompto’s stomach and pulls him closer, “Come now, Prompto, it’s time to go to sleep.”

“Iiiiiiggy,” Prompto half sighs, half laughs, turning over to wrap his arms around Ignis, “ _Iggeeeeey_! Your plan to take down Kenny Crow! I know how to make it work! I’ve got the _beeeeeeeeest_ idea!”

“Quarter pill next time?” Gladio rumbles from somewhere behind Noctis.

“Quarter pill,” Ignis agrees, gently stroking Prompto’s hair until he falls asleep.


End file.
